


Making Waves

by Empress_of_Trash



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Dead Parents, Backstory For Kuina, Bell-mère For Mom Of Year, Canon Will Ruin This Someday, Crew as Family, Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante Lives, Everybody Lives, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Levels Up, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Parents Don't Die, Happy Ending, I Just Really Wanna Use This OC, I Wanted More Mothers, Kuina Lives, Luffy Being Luffy, M/M, Mad Love For Makino, MakiRosi BrOTP, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Oh Yeah Zoro Has A Mom, Original Parent Character - Freeform, Overpowered Straw Hats, Portgas D. Ace Lives, Protective Mugiwara no Ichimi | Straw Hat Pirates, Protective Parents, Roronoa Azami Accepts Her Son Is Weird, Rosinante Forming Pirate Parents Support Group, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Surprise Pairing, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Well Some Things Hurt, Which Is A Twist As One Piece, Who Is A Major Badass, Zoro Ain't Got Time For Sexism, Zoro Gets Family, but briefly - Freeform, friendly rivals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empress_of_Trash/pseuds/Empress_of_Trash
Summary: The Straw Hats were used to accomplishing the impossible. Dragging their extended allies into it was only the beginning. As Luffy had long proved nothing was impossible, even time travel. It was just a new kind of adventure.





	1. Rosinante

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to all the truly excellent Time Travel stories in this Fandom and Katie, who demanded Rosinante live.
> 
> Here you go honey.

Rosinante opened his eyes slowly. He was in a bed? He tried to sit up but hissed as his entire body seemed to protest sending him back down and the air out of him. His head gave a throb and his vision slowly focused, the pain waking him up fully. There was an unfamiliar, ragged wooden roof over him. It matched the interior of the small room he found around him. A window showed a snowy landscape, though the room itself was warm thanks to the stove tucked against the wall at the foot of his bed. A bed which he realized, suddenly, appeared to be a few mattresses pushed together on the ground and a pile of blankets he was buried under. A quick check showed he'd been bandaged from the wounds he received. And he'd been changed.

 

His mind felt so slow and his body heavy. He was sure his injuries had caused a fever. He'd always been prone to them. It was something Doffy would tease him about and his mother and Sengoku would fuss over. As much as Sengoku ever fussed that is.

 

Which, how had he gotten them? Another, too quick movement, made him hiss, but he recognized the feeling. He'd been shot? Damn, he hadn't been surprised like this since Law snuck up on-

 

Rosinante’s blood ran cold, even as his body seemed to burn. Law. The Ope Ope Fruit. Sending the boy for the Marines. He remembered everything suddenly and was terrified.

 

Where was Law?

 

Rosinante pushed himself up, ignoring the pain and protest from his body. He braced himself against the wall pushing himself up. He almost went back to the ground, vision swimming and head spinning, but managed to slap his other hand to the wall keeping himself up. Panting he leaned against the wall until he steadied, casting a field of Calm to cover his movements from whoever was with him.

 

A quick survey of himself revealed a newly damp red spot, but he decided to ignore that until he found Law. He didn't allow himself to think _if_. They had come too far, been through too much, Rosinante refused to fail him now at the end.

 

He got to the door only to have it open as he was reaching for it. Rosinante tensed preparing to strike whoever was on the other side. He may be injured, but even weakened he was a larger than average man and Doffy had taught him how to fight dirty when it mattered.

 

Getting to Law mattered.

 

This thought stalled in his mind though when his eyes were met with nothing but air.

 

Then there was a small _squeak_ and Rosinante looked down to find a small white polar bear holding some wood. When Rosinante made eye contact with the cub it squeaked again, dropping the wood, and then began apologizing.

 

“I'm sorry!” It-he, maybe?-the voice was indistinct and childlike and it was a bear besides. Though as it was speaking perhaps a Mink.

 

“Where am I?” Rosinante demanded as the cub fidgeted. He attempted to step around it and peer into the room, but overestimated himself and flinched falling against the door frame.

 

Instantly small, warm, furry hands went straight to him, lifting up his shirt and inspecting the wound with an air of experience and tiny distressed noises.

 

“Bed!” the small bear wailed. “Hurt, stay in bed. Too early! No walk!”

 

The little thing began nudging his hips gently, trying to take his weight despite Rosinante being easily three of it. It was _sweet_. The speech was rough, which made sense. If the small creature was a Mink, and Rosinante had only ever heard of the species because of one of Big Mom’s minions and vague memories of a slave from his child in Mariejois. It didn't seem to have been around humans long considering the rough, broken speech.

 

Rosinante would have protested, kept demanding answers, except at the same moment another voice cut in, high and wonderfully familiar.

 

“ _What are you doing up Cora-san_?” Law's voice cut through the air and Rosinante felt his heart stop when the boy came into view with a thunderous expression.

 

Tears were in Rosinante’s eye instantly. Law looked so _healthy._  Gone was the small shaking body he'd carried to Minion Island and the weakened child he'd worried over. Law was standing tall, eyes clear, and voice strong. His skin was still discolored, but it was fading. His cheeks were flush with life and maybe a little annoyance. Even the bags under his eyes seemed better. Rosinante bit back a sob. Going to Minion Island had felt like carrying Law’s corpse and now the boy was standing in front of him looking better than he ever had.

 

“Law!” Rosinante said joyfully and lost his grip on the wall. His body dipped threateningly and he heard the cub give a small startled noise as the floor closed in.

 

Before Rosinante could hit it though he heard a sharp breathe from Law’s direction and a quick, “Room!”

 

Rosinante found himself laid out on the bed, the blanket gone and his head spinning. Soon enough, Law's face appeared blurrily before him and Rosinante grinned pleased, though the boy looked a little tired and exasperated now.

 

“You shouldn't be up. You’re still healing and have a fever. You need rest!” Law scolded sharply, but Rosinante could see the concern in his expression and felt his heart melt. Law turned to someone out of sight voice turning commanding instead, confident he would be obeyed. “Bepo get some water and a rag. We'll need to cool him down.”

 

Law turned back to glare at Rosinante, but Law’s small hand rested on Rosinante’s forehead.

 

“I'm going to have to redo your stitches,” Law told him scowling. His hand though began to pet Rosinante's hair gently. “Don't be so reckless Cora-san. You need to be patient and let me take care of you this time.”

 

The next sentence was said softly, so softly Rosinante wasn't sure it was meant for him. “I just got you back, I don't want to lose you again.”

 

“I'm not going anywhere.” Rosinante promised.

 

Law’s expression shattered. He looked like his heart had been ripped out and then shoved back into his chest. All pain and lost and hopeful. Then it turned fierce and protective, his eyes blazing as fierce as when they'd first met, but with a warmer flame.

 

“No you won't. You’ll stay in bed and heal. _Nothing_ is going to happen to you this time Cora-san.”

 

That sounded like a vow and slightly worrying, but Roainante’s head was fuzzy, his face flushing, and his eyes heavy.

 

“I promise,” he slurred reaching over to pat Law’s knee.

 

Law's expression softened.

 

His quiet, but firm, “Good.” was the last thing Rosinante heard before he went to sleep.

 

. . .

 

Law had made friends. Or maybe intimidated some local children into being his minions. The dynamic was a little unclear at times. It didn't help that Rosinante spent the first week or so slightly delirious from a fever so he missed most of the initial interactions of the group. When his fever broke and his focus returned though he found himself being attended by Law and the small bear, who was a Mink it turned out, Bepo. Shortly, after this they were joined by Shachi and Penguin, two boys of age with Law, who unlike Bepo did not stay in the cottage with them, always leaving eventually.

 

Whatever the case the three other children now obeyed Law without question and Law seemed to have stepped into the role of leader with ease. It was honestly, heartwarming to see Law bonding with children his own age. Though he also spent the time being yelled at by the boy any time he dared to move more than a few feet from his bed. Law was not above using his powers to put him back there either.

 

In the time Rosinante had been out of commission Law had become terrifyingly skilled with his new powers. He used them as naturally as breathing never once hesitating or mistepping. The only flaw was they tired him out easily.

 

It made Rosinante feel a mixture of pride at Law’s accomplishment remembering how he had stumbled through learning to control his own Devil Fruit initially and worry about what would happen when the world saw this boy had mastered one of world’s the most powerful fruits. Doffy would be frothing to grab Law and “educate him” into doing whatever he wanted. Even the Marines were not ideal now that Rosinante had given the idea more thought. As much as he trusted and loved Sengoku and his comrades there, they would want Law locked in and under their control lest he use his powers for others. Maybe if things were diffetent Rosinante could have negotiated for something else, but as it was he had no influence. Law would never agree to either case. The boy was too stubborn and independent to willingly become anyone’s puppet. Plus since Rosinante had awoken Law had somehow managed to hate Doflamingo as much as the boy had always hated the World Government.

 

It worried Rosinante immensely.

 

Though admittedly he had a lot of worries. To begin with how exactly Law had managed to escape with him from Minion Island and smuggle them to a quiet cottage on Swallow Island without being detected by Tsuru or Doffy. What had happened during Rosinante’s unconsciousness that had triggered such a change in Law. He at once seemed healthier, more confident in himself, and infinitely sadder. He kept looking at Rosinante like he would disappear if Law took his eyes away for too long.

 

Rosinante knew it had to be something awful to put that kind of expression on the boy’s face. He wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to take Law far out of Doffy’s reach and coax out those rare smiles and impossible laughs. He wanted this boy to be happy, to give him the safety and love Rosinante had found in Sengoku.

 

Even if Law did not feel the same deep inside Rosinante’s heart he had written Son beside Law. Rosinante liked children, but had never been sure if he would ever have them, or wanted to. But when he found Law, he knew he couldn't leave him.

 

Now he understood what Sengoku meant when Rosinante had asked him why he'd taken Rosinante in as a child. He couldn't help but want to take away that sadness as well.

 

Trapped in this room, in this bed, Rosinante could do nothing but worry and wonder at the changes coming over his son.

 

He just hoped he could protect Law from what else was to come.

 

. . .

 

Rosinante’s returned ability to walk without falling over seemed to trigger a change in the small cottage. Suddenly, Law was not deaf to his concerns and within an hour the boys had managed to procure some maps and some Berry, though Rosinante questioned the legality of both their acquisitions. Finally allowed into the other half of the cottage, he found himself gathered around the makeshift table, a few, probably, stolen crates with a nine year old Mink on one side of him and two fourteen year olds on the other as they all sat on the floor listening to Rosinante’s twelve year old pseudo-son lay out his plan for their future.

 

He was almost surprised at how seriously the other children were taking the meeting. With the exception of Bepo’s race, they all seemed like fairly normal children with average backgrounds. The kind of “soft” people Law would usually find unappealing. Normal children, Rosinante learned had difficulties taking such things seriously, usually thinking them some kind of game or adventure only. These three for all their joking took Law seriously and listened attentively.

 

“We cannot stay in the North Blue much longer. Cora-san and I make too distinctive a pair. When Doflamingo realizes we have escaped with the Fruit and not the Marines then he will rip this sea apart to find us. His reach is too prominent here. We need to flee where he has little influence.” Law told them all seriously and leaned over the map to point to the East Blue.

 

“The East?” Rosinante asked a bit surprised. If he thought of a place to hide his first thought would be the Grand Line. Considering the insanity of it, it was easy to get lost, and Doffy had not quite been willing to risk poking at the Emperor’s or Warlord’s territory quite yet.

 

Law nodded face set. “It's the weakest Blue. No one really cares about it. Of them all it is the most peaceful. It is the main area haunted by Monkey D. Garp which is a deterrent of itself.”

 

Rosinante jerked at the familiar name accompanied by a flash of boisterous laughter and the memory of his father’s ‘Garp sigh’ when he received a letter informing him of the man's latest ‘adventure’.

 

“More importantly Doflamingo finds it boring and the Wandering Emperor considers it his go to location when he wanders out of the Grand Line to party.” Law smiled showing all of his teeth and having a grimly amused expression when he continued. “Besides if he does perhaps Red Hair-ya will take care of him for us.”

 

Rosinante could not stop himself from gaping. He had had this nudging thought, a worry really, about how Doffy had started treating Law, while the boy was there. He started to take a sharp sort of interest in his skills once the boy had proven himself. Occasionally, conversations about the Ope Ope Fruit started to include curing Law as well. Law was invited to listen into meetings and Doffy would stop and listen seriously to the boy’s commentary.

 

Rosinante had feared the boy was being groomed. Doffy had recognized his closeness to Rosinante himself and seemed to decide that after Rosinante was used for his operation it would be Law that would inherit the Heart Seat. When they had went on their search for a cure, part of why Doffy had been so calm about it was the idea of insuring Law’s ability to inherit.

 

He'd been pleased to see the small changes from Doffy’s personal attention fading as they travelled.

 

Now though, Law knowing this and taking command meant that Doffy had been a lot further along in getting Law ready to succeed him. Rosinante shivered at the thought, but allowed himself to smile at the plan.

 

“Do you have a particular location you want to head towards?” Rosinante asked and Law nodded pointing to a small, barely noticeable seaside town at the edge of Goa Kingdom.

 

“Why there?” Rosinante questioned, looking at Foosha Village and having an odd feeling he had heard it before. It was connected to something vaguely important. Not Doffy, maybe the Marines?

 

Law shifted slightly and gave a small shrug. “There is no particular reason. The town is unknown relatively, but seems to still be largely peaceful. It's an unlikely place to hide anything of importance. So why would anyone think to look there? And it is close enough to Goa’s capital to gather any important information should we need to.”

 

Those were all perfectly reasonable, probable explanations for the choice, Rosinante acknowledged. Besides Law had no connections to the East Blue. He had told Rosinante about being alone in the world. That was no secret safe harbor.

 

It was also a lie.

 

Rosinante had been a spy for years and somewhat of a parent for almost a year. If he couldn't spot his kid lying to him, and Law had adopted a very good poker face he noted with an odd mix of pride and worry, he wouldn't be a very good spy or parent.

 

Plus, Bepo had started to give Law significant looks at his choice and Shachi and Penguin had shared a smirk. Whatever the secret was the other boys were clearly in the know. This made Rosinante relax, suspecting it was somewhat innocent then. Law would not trust something truly personal to near strangers.

 

“Bepo will be coming with us.” At Rosinante’s raised eyebrow, Law continued expression set stubbornly.

 

“Bepo is an excellent navigator who can help us when crossing and besides I do not want to leave him here. Minks are not well liked.”

 

Bepo ducked his head clearly pleased and bashful at the compliment, but the other two shifted with distinctly guilty looks. For not the first time Rosinante wondered about the bruises that had been healing on the three of them.

 

Law looked at Rosinante expectantly and soon enough the other boys did as well.

 

Rosinante honestly didn't see a problem with the plan. He had weeks of healing to pull over his worries and his own ideas had involved similarly lying low.

 

Though his plans had originally involved going to the Marines. He had known Law would not be hurt. The Ope Ope Fruit was too valuable. He hadn't expected Law to forgive him after finding out the lie of his working for the World Government the boy hated so. But he knew he could trust Sengoku to keep Law safe even if it was apart from him. Rosinante had known that his own part in it would have been called into question as well, but it would be worth punishment for Law’s safety. And at the time he had thought to have his brother's capture and secrets to barter with.

 

A small selfish part of him was almost happy they were together like this out of the reach of the Marines and Doffy for now. Rosinante doubted he could safely return to the Marines anytime soon. He had missed his check in and would be labeled a flight risk. Until he could contact Sengoku personally they were on their own. He was dreading that, the guilt of lying to his adopted father low in his gut even as he refused to regret it.

 

They had no allies except three inexperienced children and were on their own. But for now Law and he were safe and the boy did not know yet know to hate him.

 

It couldn't last and there was still a lot that could go wrong, but Rosinante smiled and leaned forward to ruffle Law's hair complimenting his planning skills. Law huffed like the pre-teen he was and pushed Rosinante’s hand away. Rosinante just smiled basking in the warmth of this small table as the boys debated the best way to go about stealing a boat.

 

. . .

 

Stealing the boat was left to Rosinante after he stood his ground refusing to allow Shachi and Penguin to do it on their own. The boys were visibly disappointed at being refused this criminal activity, but Law quickly shushed their whining with a few pointed words.

 

Law was less happy when Rosinante refused to take him as well and they had  their first real fight since Rosinante woke up.

 

It had taken hours of arguing and yelling before Law finally stood down and listened to Rosinante. Espionage, stealth was his specialty and he could take a boat from some civilians in his sleep. Law had seemed, under his harsh words, genuinely terrified at having Rosinante out of his sight for too long. It broke Rosinante’s heart to see Law so worried, but he refused to back down. He would be helping and would not allow the boys to take risks when he could help it.

 

Stealing the boat itself had been easy, though he did wonder about their original vessel Law had unhelpful deadanned “It sunk.” when questioned. Rosinante was experienced in covert operations and it felt good to be doing something productive.

 

He slipped onto the boat easily at night, hidden by his powers and the dark. This town was small and fairly untouched by crime, allowing for lax dock security. He was out before an hour had passed, sailing the boat to the small cove Bepo had told them about.

 

Law was waiting for him there, tense and unmoving until Rosinante was off the boat and close enough for inspection. The boy's eyes went over him quickly, checking for any injuries. Rosinante saw his shoulders relax in increments when Law saw there were none.

 

They spent the rest of the week getting supplies together. Shachi and Penguin were skilled at getting together provisions though they were tight lipped about the legality of their acquiring it. Bepo and Law had spent time mapping out the route, with interjections from Rosinante here and there. Law was right though, Bepo was a very skilled navigator despite his age. Comments to that nature though had resulted in bashful apologies. Though his map making skills were less than impressive, accurate, but not the best. Law had bristled protectively over Bepo’s shoulder during the inspection.

 

Pretty soon the ship was loaded, the route secured, and the weather clear.

 

They headed down to the boys’ secret harbor to find Shachi and Penguin waiting for them. The boys all gathered together to bid goodbye, while Rosinante prepared the sails giving them a moment of peace. It was good that Law had found friends and made bonds outside of just Rosinante. He politely pretended not to hear the excited mutterings in between the tears. He heard “Captain” and “I'll be back.” and “Get the others.”, but pretended he didn't smiling when Bepo looked over to him worriedly.

 

Whatever Law was keeping from him was worrying, but he'd trust the boy to tell when he was ready. There were a few more tears and waves goodbye, but then Law boarded after them.

 

For the first time since he woke Law looked relaxed, eyes already on the horizon. The boy was focused on something in the distance and it brought a small smile to the boy’s lips.

 

“Let's go Cora-san, Bepo.” Law said.

 

Rosinante smiled at the boys as they easily moved around each other, looking like they'd been together for years rather than weeks. He tried not to let the worries bog him down as he reached up to help secure the sails under Bepo’s strangely confident command.

 

. . .

 

_As every plan he attempted with Straw Hat, it went wrong almost immediately._

 

_Law arrived first and almost too late having been in the middle of passing the letter to Vergo. It had been pleasant to rip the startled man into pieces though, the former Corazon having underestimated him. Law grinned viciously at that._

 

_He just hoped Straw Hat was actually waiting for him when they got there. If his ally hadn't made it through. Well, he would worry about it when he got there. He'd check up on who he could on the way as well._

 

_Maybe he could surprise Straw Hat with some of his own crew._


	2. Zeff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unexpectedly Zeff was who came next. Set up for things to come mostly and establishing a bit of practice writing these characters. Things are moving slowly. A bit more painful, because you can't exactly write cheerful starvation. 
> 
> Timeline is mildly tweaked for events.
> 
> Also manga time on the island so over eighty days not forty-seven.
> 
> Next will be either Bellmere or Kuina I think. Things will move more quickly when everyone has been gone over.

They had been on the island thirty days when Zeff fainted. It wasn't the first time. And he would be surprised if it was the last. He spent days at a time unconscious to reserve his strength. What surprised him though was waking up to find his head cradled on what felt like a bunched up shirt and something being fed to him.

 

Zeff swallowed instinctively and his eyes focused to find the small blond scowling at him, but determined as he offered up another soaked piece of bread. Zeff ate another piece without thinking and then the situation registered. He tried to push himself up with a snarl only for a small leg to knock his weight out from under him.

 

“None of that Old Man,” the boy ordered. He was gaunt, but even with the food molding at this point he was still in better shape than Zeff. The man made careful note of this. The boy had been so quiet the past few days, nightmares having been the only sign of life from that side.

 

“I don't need it. I told you. Keep your share.” Zeff growled, but felt his stomach protest the thought having long started to eat itself.

 

“Liar,” the boy accused jerking his head to the large bag. “You can't eat gold. And you don't have anything left.”

 

Zeff opened his mouth, to protest, to order the boy away, maybe even to insult him. The boy took advantage shoving some more food in with a steely look in his eyes. It was a more hardened version of the strength and recklessness that had made the boy stand up on the ship. Now though it looked like it had been polished and fire forged into something stronger and tested.

 

“Besides,” the boy said testily. “Help is on the way. And it would be easier if both of us weren't completely starved. We’ll split the food for real this time.”

 

It was snapped like an order and given the spindly limbs and clear weakness in the boy’s frame it was almost impressive that he had the energy to try and give orders. The boy gave his leg a quick guilty look and Zeff shook his head.

 

“I said no boy.” Zeff told him, quietly firm. 

 

The boy gave him a sour look. 

 

“Sanji.” the boy, Sanji apparently, corrected. “And you aren't dying Old Man. I'm not letting you starve when we have someone coming for us.”

 

“Zeff,” Zeff barked back. “What are you talking about brat? Who's coming?”

 

The boy looked almost amused, but still grim.

 

“You wouldn't believe if I said.” Was the only response he got and the boy settled beside him to wait.

 

“Aren't you going to keep an eye out of the other side?” Zeff asked voice a growl, unsure what to make of this sudden change in character.

 

The boy shrugged having pulled his own food bag with him and sorting through it in small piles. Clearly he was attempting to ration it with Zeff in mind now. Zeff scowled. The boy was right about not leaving any food for himself, though with the gold seemingly untouched he wasn't certain how. And now he seemed determined not to let him.

 

“I'll know if anyone gets close,” the boy finally said absently. And then after a moment. “Knowing them it probably won't be very quiet either.”

 

“Who?” Zeff questioned, curious and annoyed at the dismissal.

 

The boy considered it for a moment. “My crewmates.”

 

Zeff stared. It seemed the sun had gotten to the boy. At least that was his first thought. He recognized the sincerity in the voice as well as confidence the boy spoke with. He believed what he was saying completely. So Zeff did not tell the boy that the chances of any of their crew having survived the storm or coming back to them was impossible. The wound was raw, knowing they were all gone.

 

Zeff settled back and accepted his company as the boy seemed to have no intention of leaving or explaining himself.

 

. . .

 

The boy had rationed out another three weeks between the two of them, though it resulted to barely a mouthful a day. Zeff, who'd been through decades of piracy, the Grand Line, and so much worse, knew he was capable of going through that. A boy of barely eight though from a cruise ship, well fed on scraps did not seem capable. Any attempts to switch their portions were quickly noted. The boy, stubborn, refused to eat if Zeff didn't. It was odd behavior considering how much the boy had loathed him initially. The settled into an uneasy sort of peace.

 

The boy handled himself well. 

 

Like Zeff he did not use more energy than necessary. Most of their time was spent in silence, switching off sleeping patterns. Zeff would, grudgingly, admit that the pittance of food helped, made his head clearer, and having the boy curl up with him at night, despite the wrinkled nose the child made, helped both of them with heat.

 

He stubbornly insisted that his mysterious crewmate was coming for them. A week passed and this faith never faltered once. It was an impressive sort of devotion and Zeff almost believed it.

 

He spent most of his waking time going through the menu he intended to have at his restaurant. It gave him something meditative to focus on, listing the ingredients and steps, occasionally changing a recipe mentally when inspiration struck.

 

Zeff was in the middle of going through a bouillabaisse recipe with the boy dozing against him when the boy suddenly stiffened and set up. Zeff watched as the boy’s eyes focused on the sea to their west, gaze intense and a slow smile starting to spread on his lips. The boy relaxed and looked up with a fierce sort of joy and vindication.

 

“They’re almost here.” the boy told him with an iron certainty and then frowned. “A couples days without any storms. Not who I was expecting.”

 

He scowled a little at the last part, said more to himself than Zeff.

 

Zeff recognized the glint in the boy’s eye. It had been rarer in Paradise, but he had seen it often in he and his crew’s brief entrance to the New World. He hadn't learned it very well himself, intensing to train up before their return. Not that there would be one now.

 

“Observation Haki,” Zeff said and the boy started, looking up at him surprised. Zeff snorted at that.

 

“I've been to the Grand Line. Once you're passed a certain point it's odd not to meet someone with some skill.” Zeff told him and the boy seemed to accept this. “How'd a brat from the East Blue learn it though?”

 

He would have to reassess his initial impression of the boy. Strong will and weak skill, but apparently there were some surprises. The boy looked at him carefully weighing his words before he spoke.

 

“I'm going to find the All Blue,” the boy said, repeating the dream that had made Zeff dive to save him. “The Grand Line’s my best bet for doing that. And my captain is someone who loves a good fight. I need to be prepared.”

 

Zeff had a feeling the boy wasn't talking about  _ The Orbit _ . It was a similar sort of instinct that had saved his life over the years and he had learned to trust it about people.

 

“Captain, huh.” 

 

The boy nodded and answered the unasked question. “We're kids now, but we all promised we would get strong and learn. We'll meet up again in a few years and sail the Grand Line. I am his chef.”

 

It was the same ironclad certainty the boy had spoken of before and the title was spoken with not a little pride. The boy’s face glowed with it as if being his young Captain’s chef was an honor of untold value. It was the kind of loyalty and friendship Zeff recognized and mourned losing.

 

“So, you're crew really is coming then.” It wasn't a question. Zeff was sure now the boy was right.

 

The boy sighed looking put out. “Not quite a crewmate but an ally. My captain would call him a friend. He travelled with us long enough for me to call him one too.” There was a pause. “Even if he is creepy.”

 

The grumble was half hearted at best, sounding more like a routine comment than anything that was meant to be vehemently insulting. Zeff had a brief flash to his First Mate’s insistence on calling him an ‘unreasonable slave driver’ who ‘did not understand his suffering’, but the man always did everything asked of him.

 

“At least it's the doctor.” the boy muttered and settled against him again.

 

“A doctor.”

 

The boy nodded, looking tired once more as the initial excitement passed. For all his surprising skills and confidence he was still a very weak child. Zeff tucked his jacket more closely around the boy against the cold of the evening.

 

“Wake me up for breakfast.” Came sleepily from his side, followed by a yawn and a softly muttered. “I can get him to look at your leg.”

 

The boy slept then and Zeff took a steady breathe. He decided to start on a more vegetable heavy recipe. Something good for gaining back weight and encouraging healthy growth.

 

. . .

 

The boy was off by twelve hours, most likely due to the brief rain they saw in the distance. The time made him agitated and eventually Zeff started telling the boy his recipes in order to distract him. The boy made some surprising suggestions and offered his own up. He seemed to know a startlingly large variety of recipes with tangerines as a major ingredient. They spent a good hour debating the merits of certain spices and the validity of the concept of bread bowl and utensils with soup baked inside it. Zeff found himself telling the boy his dream about the restaurant and his vow about feeding all who entered.

 

The boy was napping again with the boat appeared. For a moment Zeff didn't realize what it was. It was a small thing on the horizon. But as it got closer he was certain. Something inside him untwisted as the ship determinedly made its way towards them. He was certain they had been spotted.

 

“Brat,” Zeff snapped, his hand reaching to gently tussle the boy’s blond hair. “Sanji.”

 

“What?” the boy grumbled, half-asleep and slowly waking. Then something seemed to register and the boy moved more quickly focusing on the approaching vessel.

 

“It's him,” he said with absolute certainty and then said. “And the bear.”

 

Zeff didn't bother asking what that meant allowing the boy up and watching as he carefully packed up with rest of their food, checked to make sure the gold was secured, and sat beside Zeff once more eyes never leaving the small boat. As it got closer with the passing hour and wind bringing it more quickly Zeff wondered if he should be surprised. Their saviors were quite literally a bear and a rather angry looking pre-teen with a sword twice his size. The world only got more upside down when he found himself, the boy, and the gold  _ teleported _ into the boat with a wave of the pre-teen’s hand and a muttered couple words.

 

“Where’s Brook? Or Robin-chawn?” Were the first words out of the boy’s mouth. The pre-teen ignored him, giving the two of them carefully assessing looks, the bear continuing to handle with boat skillfully turning it away from their former prison. The pre-teen held up his hand and said, “Room.” and then “Scan.”

 

A purple orb appeared on the boat and Zeff felt a shiver pass through him as the pre-teen’s much too old eyes seemed to look through him. A Devil Fruit user. Rare in these parts. What exactly kind of children made up the boy’s crew?

 

“You are both severely dehydrated and malnourished. We'll be placing you both on saline drips immediately. Once we are back to the island you'll both be in bed for at minimum two weeks. Food will be introduced slowly. I don't want to risk injury.” 

 

It was said in a clinical voice that spoke of more experience then this child could have.

 

“Answer the question, Traffy.” The boy snapped looking thoroughly annoyed. He smirked though at the scowl the older boy responded with.

 

“I have not been in contact with Nico-ya, but Bone-ya managed to contact me when we reached the Red Line to warn he may be delayed. Apparently he needs to visit a friend and pick up some errands.” The boy snapped back and drew out a black bag. He skillfully began setting up the plastic liquid filled medical bags, attaching them to the mast and setting up some bedding beside them.

 

“You two need to rest here for now. You can't move much. It will be difficult enough getting an IV with how small your veins will be.” He looked at them vaguely threatening, ridiculous given his size and the fact his only visible weapon dwarfed him. “No moving around unless absolutely necessary.”

 

The boy grumbled but complied, allowing himself to be moved and rolling up his sleeves for the older pre-teen to work. He used his powers to carefully insert the needle and get the liquid flowing, before turning to Zeff.

 

“I'm Trafalgar Water Law.” the older boy introduced himself and Zeff nodded, pushing himself down and across the boat.

 

Trafalger allowed Zeff to settle himself, seeming to recognize the man did not want help. Once he had though Trafalgar was moving his jacket aside and rolling up his pant leg to give his injuries a careful look. He felt his arm being sanitized and wiped clean, even as the pre-teen’s fingers carefully touched his leg. A needle went in his vein so easily he barely felt the tiniest prick. Trafalgar seemed more focused on the leg than anything. He prodded it, measuring Zeff’s reaction and gently knocked on his knee.

 

“Is something wrong?” the boy cut in, voice tight, but eyes worried.

 

Trafalgar hummed slightly not answering, instead asking. “How much feeling have you lost? The cut was strangely clean, not quite surgical but experienced. I assume you are a chef like Black Leg-ya?”

 

A quick glance at the boy confirmed who he was referencing. 

 

“An actual chef not a chore boy,” Zeff corrected.

 

Trafalgar nodded and waited.

 

“Up past the knee. It aches sometimes like there's still something there and it started to burn yesterday.” Zeff answered finally.

 

Trafalgar nodded. “There seems to be an infection trying to take hold. The ache is normal in amputations like this. It is a miracle it didn't kill you. I'll give you a round of antibiotics as well and cleanse the area with my power. Tell me if the burning sensation continues or increases immediately. The same with fevers or chill. I do not want it entering your bloodstream.”

 

Seeming to sense the impatience from the boy, Trafalgar turned to answer. “He will be fine Black Leg-ya. I have dealt with worse injuries. Focus on you own healing and both of you rest. It should not take long for us to return now.”

 

It was spoke with an air of command Zeff recognized. This boy, this child, was as much a leader as he was. Or at least becoming one.

 

“And what do you want in return?” Zeff asked blunt. Trafalgar gave him a cool assessing look.

 

“ _ This _ ,” he said firmly. “Is repayment to Black Leg-ya’s captain for his assistance with my former issues. It is an expected part of our alliance. Though,” the pre-teen continued with a sly look on his face. “I would accept something as compensation given you are not included in Straw Hat-ya’s crew.”

 

“What?” Zeff demanded and Trafalgar gave a slow, dangerous smile.

 

“I think a meal cooked by Red-Leg Zeff when you recover and a tab at the restaurant I assume that,” he jerked his head towards the gold. “Will fund is good enough.”

 

Zeff did not question how he had been recognized or the knowledge of his dream. He nodded, realizing instinctively much like Sanji, this Trafalgar was far more than he seemed.

 

Accepting his deal was taken, Trafalgar gave them both another quick look over and began to use his powers to work on the leg.

 

“This will feel odd, do not move,” he warned and Zeff settled back, keeping his eyes on the pre-teen and listening as Sanji’s breathing relaxed into an exhausted sleep.

 

They would live, he was accepting dimly. His crew and dream was gone, but he and the boy, Sanji, would live and he had something new to work to. And perhaps someone to work with if Sanji was willing to stay and learn.

 

. . .

 

True to his word they arrived at an island in a little over two days. Their arrival was met by a towering blond man, who dragged Trafalgar and Bepo, the small bear who was a Mink he had discovered, into a tight fear filled hug. The huge man trembled and Zeff was surprised by the softness in the harsh, but efficient young doctor’s eyes as he allowed and even returned the hug, muttering urgent apologies into the man’s shoulders. It was only when their small saviors were released, both considerably damper did the man seem to gain enough energy to yell at the two children, who seemed to have run off without permission, only to cut himself off when Trafalgar drew his attention to them.

 

The man, Rosi as he introduced himself, became all business, putting his scolding on hold to help gather some transportation to take Sanji and Zeff back to the cottage they were staying in. The seaside village was too small for a real hospital, but the cottage was packed with medical supplies Trafalgar had “acquired”. Zeff and Sanji were settled into real beds, cleaned, and hooked back up before Rosi quietly led the two resigned children into another room.

 

Zeff didn't hear a single yell, but two hours later a guilty looking Bepo returned to change out their bags. Sleep didn't come easily, but after watching over Sanji and nothing happening the draw of a clean body and comfortable bed lulled him away. The next week passed similarly. It was harder to stay awake now than the island ever had been.

 

The children skillful assisted with anything they needed, cleaning them and changing their clothes until they could begin to do the tasks on their own. Their large guardian hovered like some sort of overgrown mother hen, but was firmly regulated to only being allowed to do physical labor when Trafalgar overexerted himself after clumsiness made him ruin half of the small doctor’s clean needles.

 

It seemed like young Trafalgar ran the show at first sight and the infinitely more dangerous one. As his health returned Zeff recognized his powers and the Devil Fruit they belonged to. The large, smiling, blond man who looked lovingly at his two unusual “sons” and even managed to charm the reluctant Sanji into a smile and laugh gave off an air of genuine kindness and harmlessness. 

 

The man disproved this notion though when Sanji, who had been granted leave to walk, demanded to take over cooking had dragged the other two into shopping. Zeff looked up from the log book he had been carefully rereading, giving his crewmates his goodbyes to find the man leaning in the door frame watching him intently, smoking and not setting himself ablaze for once. Zeff tensed, recognizing the danger in that blank examination.

 

He hadn't heard the clumsy man approach and even now he was deathly silent.

 

Rosi came into the room silently, steps barely disturbing the floor, the grace in the movements a familiar threat of an experienced fighter stalking. He pulled a chair beside Zeff’s bed. 

 

“You going to threaten me boy?” Zeff asked, not backing away.

 

“No,” Rosi answered. “I can think of much more efficient threats than one’s to you. You've become very attached to that boy Red-Leg Zeff.”

 

It was spoken casually, too casually and Zeff tensed. He might not be able to fight as he used to, but he was still a pirate. He silently measured the distance to Rosi’s most vulnerable arteries and if he had the strength to shove the needle in his on wrist in them. The thought of Sanji assured him he could of necessary.

 

Rosi watched him blankly taking his reaction in and then smiled, leaning back.

 

“Don't worry, I like Sanji-kun. Even if I did decide you were a threat to my boys I wouldn't hurt him to get to you.” The cloak of danger around the younger man had lifted slightly at whatever he had seen. “I just had to make sure your concern was genuine. I can't risk my kids.”

 

“When I can walk again, I'll be kicking your ass brat.” Zeff told him.

 

The man flinched and gave him that doppy, harmless grin and shrugged helplessly. “That would be fair.”

 

He took a slow draw of his cigarette and released the smoke. “I may be a Marine, but I think losing your leg is punishment enough and Sanji says the two of you will be opening a restaurant not continuing piracy.”

 

Rosi’s expression went serious then when Zeff tensed. “I am not exactly in any position to turn you in anyway. A secret for a secret. We're on the run from a powerful pirate in the North Blue and the Marines. I took something and they won't be happy about it. We have to lay low until things blow over.”

 

Zeff absorbed that accepting the power the man was giving him with that information in apology for the implicit threat. 

 

“Cigarette?” Rosi offered innocently. “I know you've been eyeing them and Law won't let you touch them if he has any say.”

 

Zeff accepted the offer with a grain of salt. The brat was still getting his ass beat when he could kick again, but he decided he would probably leave him alive. As a thank you to the little doctor.

 

The two men relaxed, opening a window to help disperse the smell.

 

Trafalgar sniffed the air when he returned eyeing them both with suspicion, but was distracted by Sanji’s cheerful announcement he would be making sandwiches. The young doctor was quick to turn on him, disgruntled.

 

Rosi made sure to return the next time the boys were all distracted with more blatant bribes and forced too cheerful conversation that seemed to consistent at least half of bragging about his sons. Zeff accepted the smokes and conversation. The latter with much less enthusiasm.

 

. . .

 

“Baratie is a good name,” Sanji insisted, ducking to avoid a kick above his head and countering with his own which was decidedly impressive. Zeff had to suppress a brief warm feeling of pride over it, instead focusing on the words and nudging the boy with his wooden leg when he tried to make his stance too large. Again.

 

Sanji scowled but corrected, hands firmly in his pockets.

 

“Fifteen minutes,” Trafalgar announced lazily from the front porch as the timer went off. The boy never looked up from his book on anatomy that Rosi, full name Rosinante he had learned recently despite the boys insistence, and Sanji had adopted the nickname as well, on calling him “Cora-san”. 

 

Trafalgar had decided sparring was a good way to relearn how to use his leg with his new prosthetic and Sanji had been eager to learn hia style, so a compromise had been reached for carefully observed “physical therapy” as Trafalgar called it. Zeff rolled his eyes, but was pleased to find it slowly coming back to him, the movements were different, but still remembered by his body. Helping Sanji and adjusting it for his smaller frame gave him time to relearn it as well. Trafalgar had been slow to increase their permitted time, but even the prickly young doctor had conceded they were recovering swiftly. 

 

Zeff was proud to find his fighting style suited his young apprentice well. Sometimes the boy seemed to almost know things immediately, others he couldn't do right for days, always measuring the distance wrong or attempting something his body couldn't handle. Throughout it all Sanji took this time to talk to Zeff about the restaurant and “their future”. The boy was very firm about the man not getting rid of him. He never once spoke of the restaurant and Zeff’s dreams without the assumption he would be there as well. Zeff mostly allowed him to talk only answering when the occasion called for it. Such as when the boy whined and wheedled to try and convince him to hire a female chef. Zeff was firm about the lack of ladies in his hypothetical restaurant, which was becoming more and more solid in his mind. He knew violence was an excellent teacher and an occasional swat kept order in the kitchen. He would never subject a woman to such treatment. 

 

Sanji had pouted for an hour after his failed attempt, but perked up when Zeff asked for seconds of his experimental tangerine soup.

 

Zeff hadn't told him yet about the inquiries he'd set Rosinante to making of some old friends. The man had managed to pass on the message and he had confirmed that the old former shipwright of Water 7 had settled in the East Blue. It was a few islanda away, but the man had already sent back an enthusiastic sketch of the thus far unnamed restaurant.

 

“You sure your Captain won't need you?” Zeff asked, making the boy go still when they finished. Trafalgar calmly slipped back inside seeming to sense the nature of the talk.

 

Sanji looked up at him wide eyed.

 

Zeff had heard the boys talking and he suspected he wasn't the only one aware of the children’s late night planning sessions. The destination the other group was making their way towards was the home of this mystery Captain and Trafalgar had more than once offered to take Sanji to meet him. Each rejection had a certain tone of nostalgia and longing in it. Sanji was loyal and the boy was clearly torn about which loyalty to go with.

 

Sanji finally relaxed and straightened seeming to have reached some sort of conclusion, eyes full of that certainty. “You aren't getting rid of me that easily Old Man. Luffy will be fine without my cooking until we set out. Law can keep him company.”

 

Zeff didn't nod or visibly relax, but responded. “I wouldn't want you going out representing my teaching until you step burning things.”

 

Sanji hissed. “It was the stove! The things possessed! And it was lightly browned not burned shitty geezer!”

 

“Don't blame your equipment little eggplant.” Zeff snapped back.

 

The entered the building bickering lightly

 

. . .

 

_ It was a nice to see Zeff again. He hadn't seen his adopted father in years and after the threats made by the Vinsmokes it was even better to see him. Sanji could have done without relieving the time on the island, but he hoped this time he'd been able to mitigate some of the damage with the shared food and earlier rescue. Chopper explained that the island had been the reason for Zeff’s later health problems and Sanji wanted to avoid those. He had wanted to arrive before the man lost his leg and he could feel the guilt of not distantly. _

 

_ His recovery seemed smoother than last time, though the memories were a blur, Sanji was sure their creepy doctor was to thank for it. The man, still just as disturbing when he made his morbid “jokes” as a kid, had been sure to focus on repairing Zeff’s heart and minimizing the damage to his leg. Sanji was grateful and somewhat glad it was him and his unexpectedly cheerful father, who looked disturbingly like Doflamingo, rather than Brook or Robin like originally planned. They wouldn't have been as immediate a help. _

 

_ Part of him did want to rush to Luffy, to find them all and see them. He wanted to prove his family was out there still even if he couldn't feel them and reaffirm the still tender bonds from his time away. He even found himself missing Zoro. _

 

_ But he knew all of them had their own goals to accomplish now. They were all tied together by their promise to meet again and Sanji wouldn't trade that for anything.  _

 

_ He also wouldn't let Zeff go off on his own. The geezer needed him to help start Baratie after all. And once they had gotten it ready, Sanji would leave on his own this time, found Zoro, who would no doubt get impossibly lost, and meet up with their Captain. For now everyone knew where to find him and he would enjoy bonding with his real father again. _


	3. Kuina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing was a MONSTER. Kuina just had a lot of feelings to work through.
> 
> I started this thinking it would be easy, but then I wondered how dis Kuina get to represent the dojo when her father was so clearly, but you are girl. So Kuina pre overconfidence. 
> 
> And Azami, who I am still working out, but love. I actually have all of her and her husbands backstory planned. It's up in the air if it will ever see the light of day though.
> 
> Next chapter will eith be Bellmere (Nami) or maybe Hiriluk (Chopper).

Kuina was practicing in the back courtyard when the boy arrived. She heard him though shouting for someone to come challenge him. Her only thought was how annoyed she was he was breaking her concentration. Then she heard the older students chuckling to themselves until her father went out to bring the boy in.

 

Kuina sighed coming out of her stance annoyed, but knowing she wouldn't be able to do much with all the fuss. A small part of her was curious about the arrogant kid who would dare demand their strongest student and wondered what her father and Akio would do.

 

Kuina marched to the main room. The other younger students stumbling out of her way with one look. The older students though smiled at her indulgent and ducked their heads a little. The looks were fond, but dismissive. She clenched her fists feeling the familiar rage build up.

 

 _Until September_ , she reminded herself, repeating the mantra. _Wait until September_.

 

Then she would wipe off those amused looks they wore when they saw her with her sword.

 

She wiggled to the front and saw Koshiro bringing the boy in. A little boy. With green hair. Kuina stared. He was probably only a year younger than her, but small for his age. He had an unexpectedly fierce look and as he entered his eyes found hers instantly.

 

He grinned at her, a vicious eager thing.

 

Kuina gripped her hilt, instinctively straightening and staring the younger boy down coolly. Inside though she felt something respond in kind. It was a _challenge_. She had lived and breathed swordplay long enough to recognize it. It was the look of a challenger sizing up an equal.

 

Kuina felt conflicted, her first instinct was to crush him, to prove herself, to prove she was strong. Another her part of her, the more careful one recognized the unexpected strength in the boy’s eyes as the look of a strong challenger and was thrilled to be recognized as competition.

 

The boy kept looking at her as he repeated.

 

“I'm gonna fight your strongest!” he told her father never breaking eye contact or stopping his sharp grin. “If I win you give me your sign! If I lose I'll become a student here.”

 

Kuina hissed, blood boiling instantly at the audacity. He thought he could take their sign? Take the Isshin Dojo’s pride. Kuina almost leapt forward herself to beat the brat. The brat still grinned, never once breaking eye contact or backing away from his unspoken challenge.

 

“I'm going to be the strongest swordsman in the world.” he said with such utter confidence that Kuina glared.

 

Not if she could help out.

 

He seemed to recognize her anger and it only made his grin wider.

 

Then her father chuckled and the eye contact that sizzled her spirit was broken. Kuina was almost disappointed her heart pounding and everything in her screaming to fight. Instead she watched as her father smiled at their challenger.

 

“An interesting condition young man. I'm Isshin Koshiro. Who are you?” he asked in his soft voice.

 

The brat looked oddly calm after that straightening and looking almost respectful.

 

“Roronoa Zoro,” His eyes went briefly to her before looking dead at her father and bowing slightly. “I want to challenge your best. Don't underestimate my age.”

 

Her father nodded, his smiles still present. “Then you shall.”

 

He turned to the crowd, gaze passing over her to land on the young adult, who was thoughtfully watching the proceedings.

 

“Akio we have a challenger.”

 

The young man sighed, but got to his feet, a good-natured but amused expression on his face. He clearly wasn't taking the boy seriously. Kuina glared. Just as he did not take her seriously. She looked at the boy, Zoro, to see his reaction and found him looking back and forth between her and Akio with clear confusion. Eventually he settled on Akio, who gave him a stern look.

 

“It's alright if you’re intimidated,” he said kindly. “Adults are a bit of a leap from the children in your village.”

 

Zoro’s face went blank as he looked the man over.

 

The silence dragged on into awkwardness, causing the boys to shift around her. Akio’s smile started to falter. Koshiro though just stood, patient as always.

 

“Zoro?” he asked.

 

Zoro looked at Kuina with a put upon expression and then back to Akio.

 

“No.” he said bluntly, harsh as an nine year old could be.

 

Akio shook his head at that amused. “As I said there's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm sure Koshiro-sensei would wel-”

 

Akio’s speech was caught off with a snort.

 

“No,” Zoro repeated expression now thoroughly bored and disinterested. “You're just too weak. I'll come back when the _real_ champion of the dojo is ready to fight me.”

 

With that the boy walked out leaving silence and confusion.

 

Kuina had an odd feeling in that she had been the one addressed. She shook it off, pushing her way passed her father’s students as the exploded into noise, questioning Zoro’s bravery and skills.

 

She needed to train. She only had three months left to prepare.

 

. . .

 

The next time she saw Zoro she was in the middle of mountain training. She had moved on to kata, tracing the steps she had watched her father make and responding to the imagined ones of her enemies. She would go back to striking the wood after she finished cooling down she decided.

 

And that was when she heard it.

 

The branches behind her snapping as someone entered the clearing.

 

Kuina spun without hesitation, shinai smoothly finding the head of the spy.

 

Zoro ducked away seemingly without thinking and grinned at the threat of her steady bamboo sword pointed at his throat. His clothes were a little torn, he had leaves in his hair, and a package wrapped up and on his back.

 

“Found you!” he said with a look of clear triumph and glanced around the clearing face perplexed.

 

“This isn't the dojo’s back courtyard.” he said with no explanation.

 

Kuina wondered if maybe the boy was stupider than she had first suspected.

 

“No,” she said blunt. “It's a _mountain_.”

 

Zoro nodded seeming to accept this.

 

“Must have taken a wrong turn.”

 

Kuina really wanted to know how exactly one mixes up the dojo and a mountain, but Zoro’s next question threw her.

 

“Why aren't you training down there?” he demanded nodding in the wrong direction, but she was fairly certain of what he meant.

 

Kuina went cold and snapped, “That's none of your business.”

 

Zoro had the gall to look annoyed at this response.

 

“I wanna fight the strongest and that’s you so it is,” he said cutting any comment she would have made back--probably something vicious like the ones that kept the other students away--down before it could be spoken.

 

“Why would you say that?” Kuina asked finally. No one, no one had ever assumed she was the strongest before. In fact, a good deal of time she heard others chiding her father for even letting her pick up a sword even if he refused to formally train her with the students.

 

Zoro snorted, looking disdainful. “You gonna tell me that the soft guy from before is really your best? I can tell you've got more potential than him.”

 

He looked her straight in the eye, eyes blazing like they had in the training room. Kuina felt the itch to prove herself and take on the challenge there. There was something less _hateful_ about the urge than when she wanted to fight Akio.

 

Zoro looked at her with something akin to the respect one gave a worthy opponent.

 

Not the indulgent respect one gave their sensei’s ‘precious daughter’.

 

Kuina decided later this was why the truth dragged itself out of her.

 

“Father won't let me.” she heard herself saying.

 

Zoro looked taken aback, though not as much as Kuina felt at revealing this fact to a stranger.

 

“Why not?” Zoro asked. The younger boy looked genuinely perplexed as if he could not fathom why she should not be allowed to train and represent the dojo’s teachings like all the students.

 

It made a familiar anger startup and a strange desire to laugh at him for not realizing something that seemed obvious to everyone else she met

 

“Because I'm a girl!” Kuina snarled, voice dragging out all the frustration and angry little ball she felt around this fact. She could hear all the whispers of _Little Kuina wants to play with the boys?_ and _If only the mother had lived and she had a woman to look up to. Such a shame._

 

Or worst of all.

 

 _Women can never be as strong as men, Kuina_. Delivered in that calm voice.

 

“Huh?” Zoro responded and then slowly anger dawned on his face. “That's stupid! Why?”

 

Kuina wanted to shout. Wanted to tell him all the things everyone ever told her about what being a girl and being a swordsman had to be.

 

Instead she said.

 

“Father says I can challenge Akio on my birthday and if I win I can represent the dojo.”

 

This seem to mollify the boy somewhat.

 

“Well it should be easy for you to beat that weak guy.” he said with utter confidence.

 

Frustration and confusion burst out.

 

“You've never even seen me fight! How can you say that?”

 

_Especially when I don't know._

 

“Then fight me,” Zoro demanded looking at her expectantly. “You aren't officially the dojo representative so it won't count for that though.”

 

“Why?”

 

_Why do you care? Why do you believe in me? Why are you like this?_

 

“It would look bad if my rival for the title was weak.” Zoro said.

 

“What what title?” Kuina asked.

 

“Greatest swordsman in the world.” Zoro told her like it was obvious. “You want to be it too.”

 

It was statement.

 

Kuina didn't question. Zoro was a mess of things that didn't quite make sense. But he seemed sincere.

 

“Let's fight.” Kuina said and the fire ignited in his gaze.

 

He unwrapped the package revealing bamboo swords. One he placed in his mouth and the others in his hands.

 

They looked each other in the eye and moved.

 

. . .

 

It only took minutes for Kuina was starting to wonder if Zoro really was dumb. He started like he knew what he was doing but it quickly fell apart. The third sword kept slipping out of his mouth tripping him up, sometimes literally. He was pretty good with two swords and could surprised her, but then he would do something odd like overstretch his arms or not reach far enough. Sometimes he moved like he was expecting himself to move faster and kept taking hits as a result. He couldn’t seem to judge how to hit correctly or his own reach. He literally tripped over his feet and acted surprised they were there.

 

In short he seemed to have the positioning and form down but absolutely no experience actually using swords or moving in a fight. He was clearly strong and could move fast, but some of their beginners had more polish than him.

 

“And you expect to beat me!” Kuina shouted in frustration knocking the boy to ground. Kuina pointed at the beaten boy angrily. “Have you ever even held a sword?”

 

He glared up at her. “I’m just now getting used to my body!”

 

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

 

“Yes it does!” Zoro said, face pinched in annoyance, but when he got to his feet and brushed himself off his face was set.

 

“A loss is a loss though.” he said eyes blazing. “You aren’t as good as you will be yet, but you’re still my rival.”

 

Which didn’t make sense, but apparently a lot of Zoro didn’t make sense. Especially with how oddly pleased he sounded about admitting her strength.

 

“Don’t decide things for yourself.” Kuina told him instead.

 

Zoro ignored this and instead asked, “Want to train together? You don’t move like you’re used to opponents who hit back and fighting will help me get back in shape.”

 

Kuina didn’t mention that the younger boys were mostly too scared to fight her now and the older ones didn’t take her serious enough to accept the challenge. She surprised herself by responding though and wasn’t quite sure why she bothered.

 

“Sure.”

 

. . .

 

Training with Zoro quickly began to take up her time. It seemed all the boy did was train, eat, train, nap, train, and get lost. And everything he did was to an extreme.

 

It initially seemed pretty normal. They ran together, went through kata, meditated, and sparred daily. Zoro was very put out about her winning streak.

 

But then Zoro started lifting boulders or attempting to. The incredulousness on Kuina’s face was met with a smirk that someone who couldn't even beat her yet shouldn't be wearing. Kuina found some of her own boulders and began doubling her regime, making sure to practice away from Zoro sometimes too. They may be training partners, but they were also rivals. He was firm though Kuina refused to acknowledge him as such until he completely stopped tripping over himself. He didn't need to see everything she knew.

 

Then she walked in on Zoro seemingly meditating arms stretched before him towards a boulder. Kuina watched sensing something was different.

 

Zoro fell into a crouch, but instead of using his two-sword style, he'd grudgingly accepted he'd have to wait on _three_ , he crossed his arms in front of him. He exhaled and then inhaled carefully. His breathing began to slow and then in the place between breathes he lunged forward striking out and shouting, “ _No Sword Style_!”

 

Kuina’s mouth dropped as both the boulders and Zoro’s arms made a distinct crack.

 

Zoro fell back holding his arms which were _bleeding_.

 

“IDIOT!” Kuina shouted hear stoppin as she ran forward. She dropped to her knees beside the boy and he grumbled but allowed her to carefully prod the arm. He hadn't broken anything but the skin had split along a odd straight area. For a moment the unharmed part of the arm looked black, but then it faded away. It was skinned, badly and covered in blood, but after Kuina cleaned it with her water she found it wasn't a severe injury. Just a stupid one covering a large area.

 

“Moron.” Kuina snapped, pulling the grumbling boy up.

 

“Ugh, what now?” Zoro demanded.

 

“We need to get it bandaged!” Kuina snapped. “What idiot just slams against a rock?”

 

Zoro wrinkled a nose. “It's barely a scratch.” And then. “It's training! I'm working on my _haki_.”

 

He let her drag him down the mountain, though he did try to take a ‘short cut’ in the opposite direction. Twice. Frustrated Kuina dragged him in after her. The boys her age looked horrified at the blood covered boy. Zoro meanwhile whined about having been through worse. It wasn't until Kuina was scolding him about swordsman needing to take care of his body that he admitted, with a bit of true frustration, that he wasn't ready for that kind of training yet.

 

During the protest he mentioned it again. That weird word.

 

“What is haki?” Kuina asked inspecting the bandages and realized she'd made them too loose. She unrolled them and tried again doing it more carefully.

 

Zoro sighed taking the bandage from her. She was going to protest, but seeing him wrapping expertly decided to allow it. This once.

 

“It's your will made manifest.” Zoro said bluntly. “Every living thing has it. Their ‘fighting spirit’. Haki channels the power into something. There's observation and armament. I was trying to use armament. Thought I felt it for a bit, but I'm still not fully recovered.”

 

The last bit was said with self-reflection and annoyance.

 

Kuina wanted to protest that. It sounded like a kids story. The idea of having special powers. But she remembered that odd blackness that faded on the only uninjured part of Zoro’s arms. She also remembered her father, who was always so serious, telling her of Devil Fruit and the impossible powers. The world was large and filled with odd things.

 

“How did you learn haki?” Kuina asked curious.

 

Zoro shifted looking away and finally said, “My _teacher_ taught me. I was too weak to face the challenges I needed to. If I wanted to see my dream fulfilled and protect my crew I needed to become stronger.”

 

Zoro sounded thoughtful when he spoke. “I think Mihawk wanted it to be a challenge when we finally do fight.”

 

And that, that name stood it. It poked at something in Kuina sounding familiar. She frowned trying to remember why.

 

“Doesn't look like you've mastered it.” Kuina pointed out.

 

“I did!” Zoro told her and then corrected. “I will.”

 

“Can anyone learn it?” she asked curious, packing up the supplies back in the kit. Distantly she could hear shouting, meaning the boys had finally unfrozen to got get an adult.

 

Zoro nodded. “Anyone with enough will to awaken it.”

 

His face went grave. “It was a horrible time. Mihawk was very strict about how to go about it.”

 

Kuina frowned at the expression Zoro wore.

 

Then the boy said mournfully, “Not a sip of alcohol.”

 

Kuina pointed out dryly. “You're nine.”

 

Zoro looked at her as if she was the odd one.

 

“I am _now_.”

 

Yes, because that was an explanation. Kuina rolled her eyes deciding then to give up on understanding anything that left Zoro’s mouth.

 

“Who’s Mihawk?” she asked instead and then considered the other part of Zoro’s explanation. “And what crew?”

 

Zoro gave her a disappointed look. “Dracule Mihawk, the Strongest Swordsman in the World and-”

 

“A warlord.” Kuina interrupted remembering.

 

It had been announced in the _News Coo,_ the selection of the newest of the Seven Warlords. Koshiro didn't normally care about pirates, but he'd read all of the article with mild interest. The man, dark haired, with striking eyes and odd clothing had lingered in Kuina’s mind. Not because of the unique appearance, but because when she'd commented on the heaviness of the cross her father had corrected her. It was a sword.

 

Zoro nodded looking pleased.

 

Kuina opened her mouth to question him, mind absorbing this and rearranging, adding another step to her goals, when she noted something else.

 

“ _You_ were trained by _the Strongest Swordsman in the World_ and you still trip over your feet?”

 

“Shut up!” Zoro protested.

 

Anything else was delayed when one of the boys burst in, Koshiro trailing behind. Screeching the boy said, “She’s killing Zoro, Sensei!”

 

Kuina glared at him and he wilted jumping behind her father. Koshiro meanwhile looked over the scene with quiet amusement.

 

“There seems to be a mistake,” Koshiro said mildly.

 

He smiled at them, looking back and forth between Kuina and Zoro.

 

“Would you like to stay for supper Zoro?” her father asked.

 

Zoro looked considering before shrugging.

 

“Better than hunting.”

 

. . .

 

It becomes a habit.

 

After they finished training, together and apart, Kuina would find Zoro, usually already lost, and take him home with her for supper. The other boys seemed unsure how to handle this, especially with Zoro moving about the building with the quiet surety of resident. Strangely, the dojo was the only place he didn't get lost in. Zoro would occasionally “pay rent” by arriving with a dead boar or some fish or once some tender plants and mushrooms for a soup. The last one had been accompanied by embarrassed mutterings about a “love cook”.

 

When Zoro casually mentioned he was _living_ in the mountain Koshiro offered him a bed. The younger boy had actually had to think about it before accepting. Gentle prodding had him telling them he didn't actually know what direction his home village it was in and thought it was a couple hours north, before pointing west. Questions about his parents were met with shrugs.

 

Eventually like every other strange aspect of him the fact he was living with them eventually just became part of his being Zoro. They continued to practice, but now they added meditation together.

 

Akio liked to tease Zoro and ask if he was joining. Which was always met with a deadpan, “I haven't lost yet.”. This always seemed to deeply amuse Akio, who would offer a match, but be turned down instantly.

 

They were spending so much time together it felt a little like Kuina had suddenly found herself a little brother. Her father's reaction only increased the feeling. He was quickly becoming fond of Zoro.

 

They were talking, rehydrating after a very close win for Kuina, when it happened. He mentioned, off hand, something about a crew. Kuina then remembered his earlier comment about protecting them. This is how Kuina a discovered Zoro fully intended to, or already had in his opinion, become a pirate. He didn't really talk much, but with a little prodding he began speaking of his crew. They were all separated, but intended to meet up again in a few years after training and “doing things”. Any questions about what things Zoro was planning were meet with a shrug and an odd determined look in his eyes.

 

Zoro told her, with a certain amount of pride and iron certainty, that his captain was going to be King of the Pirates. Zoro himself would be the World’s Greatest Swordsman after he met Mihawk again.

 

Kuina had made sure to point out, “Not if I beat him first.”

 

Zoro grinned back and they spared. After they finished there was an odd warm weight in Kuina’s chest and she laughed as Zoro, yet again went confidently the wrong way.

 

She was starting to think she had a friend as well as a rival.

 

. . .

 

Zoro had began to improve rapidly. So much so it left Kuina reeling. It was like some sort of block within him had broken and now he was finally able to back up his claims.

 

It felt a little like betrayal and suddenly all Kuina could think was doubts.

 

_Never as strong as a man. Eventually women plateau, to overcome this is nearly impossible._

 

She won, but it was by the smallest margin and when Zoro said “next time” with a grin she was starting to be sure of it as well.

 

It was with these thoughts in mind and worry over her upcoming match ( _What if she couldn't beat Akio?_ ) that she finished up training with Zoro who was scowling at her. The scowl said it all. She knew she had been distracted, allowed more openings than usual and missed the ones he left, and worse, Zoro knew it too. He looked offended at her not giving him her full attention. Kuina glared back the dark feelings inside her _-not good enough, weak, going to lose-_ needed to be let out and fighting with Zoro looked to be a great way to do it.

 

Which was when the swordswoman interrupted by letting out a low impressed whistle.

 

“I didn't think this is where you'd wandered off to Zoro-chan, but you certainly have improved from swinging around a stick.” a female voice said lightly.

 

Both of them turned to face the stranger and found a tall green haired woman standing there.

 

Kuina first realization was that this woman looked like a pretty, adult female Zoro. Then she noticed everything else. The woman was wearing a black divided _hakama_ and a tank top giving her a easy movement, on her left hip was a sword. Her eyes looked over them amused and warm, her one arm resting on her hip.

 

Her left arm was gone and that side of her had long ragged scarring from across collar bone to left shoulder.

 

“ _Azami?_ ” Zoro choked out disbelieving and expression slack.

 

The woman, Azami, looked amused by this reaction.

 

“Son,” she greeted, with a smile striding forward. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes darted rapidly over Zoro noting the small bruises and the way some of the baby fat had thinned out from around his face.

 

“Son?” Kuina said and looked towards Zoro accusingly. They had assumed he was an orphan given his dismissal of the idea of parents.

 

“Son,” Azami confirmed coming to stand by the boy’s side and Kuina could see the resemblance easily.

 

With this she turned to Zoro. “I knew you had inherited your father's sense of direction, but I didn't think telling you to stay outside the grocery would result in you getting this misplaced.”

 

“I'm not lost!” Zoro protested, as always. “I just forgot about you!”

 

Kuina was relieved to see Azami’s dubious expression at that, because it meant she wasn't the only one confused by Zoro’s nonsense. How did someone just _forget_ they had a living relative?

 

Azami turned to Kuina with an almost sweet smile. It had too much of the sharpness of Zoro’s grins to truly be so.

 

“Could you give me a moment with my son? An hour and we'll join you down at you dojo.”

 

A brief look at Zoro, who nodded with a huff, and Kuina agreed, giving the woman a brief bow before retreating. Kuina felt her mind swirling as she left. She'd never met another swordswoman. How skilled was she? It was possible Zoro hadn't inherited any of his skills from his mother, but there were still questions, burning ones, that only another woman could answer for her.

 

She barely remembered to warn her father about their imminent guests. He'd raised an eyebrow and made a small hm that could mean anything. Kuina found herself fussing around the backyard, glancing up at the mountain ever so often as she tried to put herself through her kata. Her throat was tight. There was a lot she wanted to ask Azami, but there was also the other factor.

 

What if Azami wanted to take Zoro back home?

 

Kuina, as reluctant as she was to admit it, liked Zoro. It was her first time with a rival, a proper rival, who looked at her and respected her because he thought she could be just as strong or stronger. It helped push her in a way her goal had not. She'd known she was good, even with those piercing doubts, and she'd wanted to fight Akio to prove it. But Zoro made her want to be better and that had made her better.

 

Plus on a more emotional level she was uncomfortable thinking of she had been lonely. Zoro was her rival, but he was also her friend, almost like an annoying little brother. He was someone she could talk to and share her dreams with. She didn't want that to end.

 

“Kuina,” Koshiro’s quiet voice cut through her thoughts and she noticed she'd staled mid-swing her shinai quivering where it had frozen.

 

“Father,” Kuina said back stiffly.

 

He looked at her with his calm black eyes and said simply, “Would you help me make some tea for our guests?”

 

Kuina relaxed out of her pose and nodded, a little stiff. She hadn't really spent much time with her father lately not since he'd told her his feelings on swordswomen-- _you can not beat them_ \--but she would never turn down that. Tea making had always been serious business between them.

 

It was used to say everything her father couldn't with his quiet nature and Kuina’s pride stopped. It apologized, comforted, and teased all through her life.

 

It was also the only skill her mother had managed to pass on before she died. Kuina had soft worn memories of sitting on the counter carefully watching smooth hands measure out ingredients and a sweet voice explaining each step. Kuina had been convinced her father didn't miss her mother and hated him for it when she'd been little. But then she'd seen him unsuccessful trying to make tea with trembling hands and saw the tears. She'd pretended she hadn't and interrupted loudly to show him the correct way. They spent days, weeks, with Kuina firmly teaching her father the dos and don’ts of perfect tea.

 

Neither had invited the other for a cup since that day.

 

Kuina followed behind entering the family side, her mother's kitchen, still hers years after her death, and moved confidently to get the wildflower tea set her mother favored for family and close friends. She turned to find her father had already retrieved the mixes and was sorting through them.

 

“Chamomile?” Koshiro asked and Kuina gave a curt nod, slipping up beside him as they easily fell into a long neglected rhythm.

 

She could feel something between them relaxing. That, and perhaps Zoro’s repeated support and dismissal of gender restrictions, let her speak not angry and shouting, but with the same quiet confidence Zoro spoke of his own future.

 

“I am going to become the strongest swordsman in the world.” Kuina told him.

 

She heard him inhale and he began. “Kuina-”

 

“Don't,” she said and turned to look up at him steeling herself. “I don't need to hear it. I'm weak, women can't do it. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that no woman has or that people say they can't. I will. I won't give up. I'll keep pushing myself until I can. I'll find a style that will work for me because I'm a girl not in spite of. And if I can't I'll make one.”

 

Her voice rose as she spoke and she took a shaky breath forcing herself to calm down. Her father was looking at her, actually looking, and listening.

 

“I'm going to beat Akio, I'm going to become our dojo’s champion. I'm going to keep training and when I've learned as much as I can here I'm going to set out. I'm going to challenge others and go to the Grand Line.”

 

Kuina straightened up proudly and told him.

 

“One day I'm going to be strong enough to beat Dracule Mihawk and take the title from him.”

 

Koshiro looked at her carefully. “And Zoro?”

 

“He hasn't beat me yet.” Kuina countered, but continued. “If he does it just means I need more training. He has had formally training once, I'll find myself a teacher as well. If he beats me, we'll fight again and keep fighting until we both are strong enough to fight for the title.”

 

Koshiro looked away staring at the tea silently, expression blank.

 

“It will be dangerous. The Grand Line is not a joke. You may die.”

 

Kuina stood firm. “Dying for my dream isn't something I'm afraid to do.”

 

Koshiro smiled then face fond. “Don't die daughter. Live for it. Live for your dream.”

 

Kuina felt her heart flutter.

 

“You-?” she couldn't complete the sentence, heart beating furiously.

 

Koshiro didn't stop smiling. “I stand by what I say. There is a plateau and issues that no woman has pushed passed, but you have changed these past couple months. You don't seem afraid anymore. Perhaps you will fail. But perhaps not. I will not stop you.”

 

Kuina smiled at that. “I'll show you.”

 

“Prove me wrong,” Koshiro ordered and looked longing, suddenly. “Your mother would certainly have encouraged you to.”

 

The rest of the time passed in companionable silence her father was so fond of. They had set everything out in the sitting room when Kuina heard footsteps approaching. She rushed to the back to find Azami leading a disgruntled, but still talking Zoro.

 

“--and that was when the Love Cook was taken by his family, the Vensions, some kind of royalty? From the North Blue.”

 

“I think you mean the Vinsmokes,” Azami countered with dry amusement and Zoro looked at her suspiciously. “Your father and I had the displeasure of meeting Vinsmoke Judge before you were born. At the time he only had a daughter.”

 

“Probably them,” Zoro agreed hearing that. “Luffy was the one who explained and he can't remember a name to save his life. He still calls the doctor Traffy.”

 

Azami hummed thoughtfully, “Ah! The one with the,” she wiggled her hand in some kind of gesture, stepping over there small garden as they crossed the back fence. Zoro nodded understanding it.

 

“He has a cursed nodachi, Kikoku. Fairly good sparring partner. More surgeon than swordsman though.” Zoro said the last part a little regretful and Azami nodded in seeming perfect understanding.

 

“Your father was like that. I got him to be a good fighter, but he was always a poet not a swordsman.”

 

Zoro looked mildly interested in this, but finally noticed Kuina and jerked his head at her to draw Azami’s attention.

 

“Oh, Kuina-chan,” There was another sweet-sharp smile. “It seems we have quite a bit to discuss with your father.”

 

“He's waiting in the sitting room.” Kuina said and then straightened. “We made tea.

 

Azami looked pleased.

 

. . .

 

Azami with her wild appearance (“I had an argument with a dragon. He took my arm. I took his head.”), her skill with a blade (“My father taught me, family tradition, and then I had to make sure this one's father didn't get killed.”) and her complete lack of tradition feminine values (“Never saw much need for them. I was a swordsman and then a farmer not a court lady.”) should have been the opposite of what her father approved of.

 

Somehow they got along swimmingly. The both enjoyed growing crops, though Azami was more skilled than Koshiro. They both enjoyed poetry, Azami apparently even wrote haiku fairly well. They both seemed perfectly fine sitting and not speaking. And they both were more than content to allow Zoro to train and stay at the dojo.

 

Kuina would have actually wanted them to get along a little less well if she thought Azami had even the slightest interest in her father. The woman though shook her head firm that her husband was simply away. Zoro shrugged it off when asked to explain, expression going carefully blank, and Kuina decided to leave it be.

 

Plus Azami had started following them when the trained to work on “getting back into shape” with her arm. Apparently she hadn't had a proper fight since “the dragon”--Kuina had her doubts on its legitimacy--which had occurred while she was pregnant with Zoro.

 

Azami though moved like she was dancing.

 

Kuina actually had to stop and watch. Zoro did as well looking interested, but only commented that she was stiff on the right side, making his mother laugh and agree.

 

Azami took Kuina’s fascination with cheerful good humor and quickly answered questions amd provided tips, pointing out mistakes and wasteful movement she'd never considered. It became a habit to get critique from her at the end of ever match.

 

“-use your hips more.” Azami said crisply. “We have an advantage in that area.”

 

Kuina nodded ducking her head to smile and Azami turned on Zoro with a stern look.

 

“As for you I don't care if you can take the beating. The point is to dodge and not be hit. Once your opponent realizes you are alright with taking some attacks they can use it to your advantage. Do not assume you can always take them. Every blow is a death blow.”

 

Zoro looked oddly thoughtful at that. “He never mentioned that.”

 

“You probably took less instinctively knowing with him having felt his blows. Plus it is beneficial to train with different masters, because they may miss something when they become used to how you fight.”

 

Zoro nodded accepting this.

 

Azami smiled and her eyes got that soft sad look she gave Zoro when he wasn't looking. Kuina thought it made her look both proud and like she was missing him. Kuina supposed Zoro must have changed in the time they were apart.

 

“Are you prepared Kuina-chan?” Azami asked, suddenly, and Kuina stiffened briefly taking a moment to realize the questions meaning.

 

“Oh.” she said and then. “No.”

 

Zoro snorted. “Of course she isn't. Akio’s not a real threat.”

 

His dismissal, as always, was spoken with that odd mix of pride and desire for a fight. The confidence in her waas oddly soothing at this point.

 

“Even wrens can beat eagles if they are clever.” Azami said simply and gave Kuina a hard look. “Do not underestimate your opponent, Kuina-chan.”

 

“Yes, Sensei.” Kuina said and, as always, the title made Azami smile.

 

“Now, time for lunch, Koshiro is making eggplant,” Azami said looking strangely delighted.

 

Kuina sighed preparing to leave, stomach uneasy, but then Zoro stopped her and gave her a careful look.

 

“You only need to keep going.” he told her. “Even if get knocked down six times, you just need to get up seven.”

 

Kuina nodded, mouth dry, and followed.

 

. . .

 

Kuina stared. The room was silent no one even dared to breath. Akio gaped up at her, face disbelieving, his mouth opening and closing silently. Behind him the older men, who had been around since before mother died, looked shell shocked. The youngest boys, the ones who had been too young to thank fighting a girl was shameful, looked oddly vindicated at het win.

 

Azami looked thoughtful and Zoro was sleeping somewhere.

 

Her father-

 

“Isshin Kuina’s win.” he announced formally, his soft voice loud in the silence. “We have our champion.”

 

Kuina felt a tremble inside even as her hands remained steady. She'd won. She'd built the fight up in her mind, so certsin this would decide her fate. So angry and ready to prove herself. Frothing with pride, hurt, and indignation. And she'd won.

 

It had been so _easy_.

 

She hadn't had a proper measurement to compare herself with having just been training with Zoro and not even fighting him the passed couple weeks. Now though it was clear. She was stronger.  The strongest one at Isshin Dojo.

 

Kuina’s pride did not flush at this though. The East was the weakest Blue Zoro, Azami, and her father assured het. She had a clear image of Azami’s deadly elegance demonstrating what haki could do. Zoro’s uncertain arms shattering the boulder. There were so many stronger than her and this was just the beginning.

 

Kuina put her arms on her side and bowed, “Thank you for the match.”

 

It was formal and stiff, but Akio nodded and her father smiled slightly.

 

Kuina stopped by her mother's closet to get the sword within and headed to the mountains. She'd acquired a good instinct for finding Zoro, polished with Azami’s assistance. The woman used her son as a training tool happily. He was napping in a field of flowers. He had real swords sheathed beside him, gifts from Azami three days prior, “until you can reunite with your own”.

 

“I'm the champion,” Kuina told him slightly breathless.

 

Zoro opened his eyes and looked at her carefully, his eyes landed on her sword.

 

“Wado Ichimonji.” he said. Kuona didn't bother asking how he recognized what she'd never shown him.

 

“From my mother's side.” Kuina said and took a stance.

 

Zoro’s expression took on a fierce joy. “ _Finally._ ”

 

Kuina smiled.

 

. . .

 

_Zoro won. Of course he won. He had well over a decade on Kuina and had gotten back to about his strength before he first left to find Mihawk. But Kuina didn't crumble, she stood tall and said “533 to 1.” He almost couldn't believe it. Some childish part of him still saw Kuina as the peak. Even above Mihawk in some ways, the unbeatable opponent. Even now, two years early, she was strong. She'd been strangely nervous, less confident than before, but she grew quickly and Zoro was pleased._

 

_He wondered if maybe this is what Mihawk felt when he let him leave and agreed to train him. The recognition of a potential to be unbearably strong and a desire to see it happen._

 

_Zoro wanted his rival. Wanted to see what Kuina could have grown up to be. He wouldn't surrender their shared dream easily, but being able to fight for it was something that made his heart ache._

 

_Azami had been waiting for him as he took the offered sign, the Issins kept their word, and then handed it back for them to “watch” until Kuina could win it back. The determined look on her face left him grinning when he turned to face his mother._

 

_She had been a surprise. Azami had been long dead by the time he meet Kuina and Koshiro originally. Pneumonia had killed her. A simple disease. The loss was a long buried one and Zoro had forgotten the exact sound of his mother’s life or the fact they'd shared a smile. He couldn't remember her ever telling him about being a swordswoman before. Just finding an empty sheath while her things were sorted through by the neighbors._

 

_Her being alive was odd and unexpectedly pleasant._

 

_She grinned and asked if he'd like a second teacher. Apparently she wanted her son to actually beat Mihawk this time._

 

_Zoro scoffed at the comment, but accepted. His mother was stronger than he expected and her advice was sound._

 

_They would find the others first though. They may not be meeting back up for a few years, but Zoro was the First Mate it was his job to protect his crewmates. Ensuring everyone had arrived safely and then continuing their training was reasonable to him._

**Author's Note:**

> The funniest part about my writing this is I am actually still catching up in One Piece and haven't gotten to Dressrosa yet. Spoilers have made me love Rosinante though so...yeah.


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